By Angela Denstad
Time and again, odd coincidences spring up as patterns of thought lead to unlikely connections and serendipitous insights. As I was trying to curry favor with my finicky feline, brushing the little lion soft as a lamb, I wondered how March might unfold and where this Year of the Horse might lead us.
Weather-wise, the groundhog predicted more winter, and therefore more cold-weather comfort food. But looking for a subtle shift to the season ahead, I thought of spring chicken, which (this being Lent) shifted to chickpeas as a vegetarian option, which led to a longing for some warming curry spice. All these animal references, alongside my curry craving, and currying my own little Alice, led me down a proverbial rabbit hole:
Where does the expression “to curry favor” come from?
Turns out, keeping in good company with groundhogs, horses, lions, and lambs, it starts with a good old-fashioned animal-based allegory.
Once upon a time, as the 14th-century story Roman de Fauvel tells us, there was a foolish but ambitious fallow-colored horse named Fauvel who rose to political and social prominence in the French royal court. Wed to Lady Vainglory and proclaimed by Dame Fortune to be a harbinger of the antichrist, Fauvel lived in the lap of luxury. Obsequious leaders would make pilgrimages to his palace, bowing to him in servitude, cleaning and grooming him to his heart’s content, stroking his ego as much as his hide.
Written by one Gervais du Bus, a disgruntled government clerk, the allegory is meant as a satirical critique of King Philip IV and the excesses of the ruling class. Even the horse’s name, which means “false veil” in French, is an acrostic, meaning each letter stands for a sinful human vice: Flattery, Avarice, Vileness, Variability (Fickleness), Envy, and Laxity (these work out a little more naturally in French, but you get the idea). And so, in medieval England, references to the story of “currying Fauvel” were soon corrupted to “currying favour” in the modern sense of this expression, which remains unchanged, even if its origin is not broadly known.
As to finding any linguistic connection between “curry” in the culinary use and “curry” in the sense of horse grooming, there is none. Their roots are in separate languages and cultures; the only thing they bear in common is having been misheard, misspoken, and usurped by the British for their own use.
So how does all this come together? Much like this quick curry dish. It’s a bit of an English corruption of an Indian recipe that, whether or not you know the full history and technique, you can still use to effectively put some healthy sustenance on the table. And if the centuries-old allegory also seems to put something else on the table, use it as food for thought in this time of Lent. Look for the “false veils” and vices so prevalent in modern society and consider deeply where you place your allegiance.
Whether keeping a Lenten fast, looking for a change of pace, or channeling the peace of the Dalai Lama (who resides in the region where this dish is often made), let these warming spices fulfill you on the long road to spring.
About the author: Angela works as a copywriter in the education sector and has dabbled in various culinary pursuits. She was the author of The Caledonia Argus’ long-standing weekly food column Thyme Out with Angela and is happy to now join the rotation of food writers with the Fillmore County Journal.
Chickpea Yogurt Curry (Himachali Madra)
3 tablespoons clarified butter (ghee)
1 onion, finely chopped
3 pods of green cardamom*
1 cinnamon stick*
1 teaspoon coriander seeds*
1 bay leaf*
1 fresh or 2 whole canned tomatoes, finely chopped
1 cup Greek-style plain yogurt
1 28-ounce can chickpeas, drained
1 cup boiling water
1 teaspoon chili powder*
1 teaspoon garam masala*
½ teaspoon ground turmeric*
½ teaspoon ground cumin*
1 tablespoon ground fenugreek leaves*
Salt to taste
Fresh cilantro leaves
Heat the clarified butter in a large skillet and saute the onion until soft, about 7 minutes. Toward the end of that time, add in the whole spices, if using: cardamom pods, cinnamon stick, coriander seeds, and bay leaf. Add the chopped tomato, stirring to combine.
Add the yogurt and increase to high heat, stiring continuously until the mixture comes to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium and cook to thicken, 3-5 minutes. A thin layer of oil will separate out and float on top of the mixture. Add the chickpeas, boiling water, all the ground spices, and salt. Stir together and let it cook another 5-10 minutes to thicken.
Serve on its own, with flat bread (naan), or over a bed of basmati rice. Garnish with fresh cilantro leaves before serving.
*If you’re in a hurry or don’t have these spices, substitute a corresponding amount of good quality curry powder for some or all nine of these ingredients. If using only curry powder, a couple tablespoons should do.
Leave a Reply